Not Again
by Salt-the-Catgirl
Summary: A dark short story for an otherwise light-hearted film. Finding Tulio and Miguel on his ship, COrtes condemns the two conmen to be flogged and then enslaved in the Cuban Sugar Plantations. Tulio and Miguel, however, believe they can escape. Rated T for suggested floggings.


Author's Note: I recently rewatched the movie, and have been away from writing fanfics for a while, so I needed to write something short. I tried to make the brief interaction between Miguel and Tulio short and sweet. After enduring such treatment, I couldn't see Tulio laying into Miguel on who's fault it was they were in this current situation.

* * *

 _ **...NOT AGAIN...**_

* * *

"My crew was as carefully chosen as the disciples of Christ, and I will not tolerate stowaways," Cortes's voice rang through Tulio's mind as he watched a now half conscious Miguel being drug to the brig below.

"Your turn," the first mate with the whip said, grabbing Tulio's shoulders and dragging him forward.

"Hey, wait, no!" Tulio pleaded, "Can't we talk about this?"

"You will be flogged," Cortes's voice continued to echo, "And when we put into Cuba to resupply, God willing, you will be flogged some more... and then enslaved on the sugar plantations... for the rest of your miserable lives."

Miguel had acted as though 'Cuba' was the only thing he'd heard, but the blonde's plucky optimism disappeared at the first crack of the whip. Seeing a defiant look of hopefulness in both Miguel's and Tulio's eyes, the pair knowing that once reaching Cuba, they would be able to look for a way to escape, the first mate decided to rip that hope away from them. Rather than setting them side by side and letting the whip take them both in one blow, he had two of the crew members hold Tulio in place to watch as Miguel was flogged first, believing that forcing one to watch the other's fate would crush that hope.

Miguel's shrieks of pain as the whip cracked against his bare back didn't seem to faze the crew, but Tulio had winced at his friend's every cry. Pleads for mercy, from both men, fell on deaf ears. The first mate had been right, to a point. It had been torture for Tulio to sit by and watch helplessly as his partner took such a brutal beating. Tulio arched his back and let out a shout of pain as the whip came down on his own back. He closed his eyes and gasped for air during the brief moment of relief between the first lash and the next. _"_ _We can't stay here until we reach Cuba,_ " Tulio thought to himself. " _We could easily escape, we're clever enough for that,_ " he told himself, " _But this..._ " Tulio gasped as the whip cracked down on him again. " _We can't go through this a second time._ "

Thirty strokes. The whip had crossed Tulio's back thirty times, before he fell over forward, gasping for air. His back stung and felt as though  
there may have been some blood running down it. His shirt had been folded over the pillory yoke around his neck and wrists in order to keep it  
out of the way of the whip. The crew laughed, and the first mate gave him a shove with his boot. "Is that all you've got? You took more than  
your friend," the first mate laughed, as his toes connected with Tulio's ribs, "I'll give you that." The first mate sat aside the whip and  
motioned toward the brig. "Get this long lout of my sight!"

The crewmen forced Tulio to his feet and drug him to the brig. Removing the pillory yoke, they tossed him in with Miguel and locked the grate.  
Tulio landed on his back with a thudding "Ooof" of pain. He groaned and lay flat, staring up at the metal grate above him. "We have to get out  
of here," he groaned in pain.

"Tulio?" Miguel's pain-filled voice cracked against his ears.

"M-Miguel?" Tulio groaned as he forced himself to roll over onto his stomach and push himself to his hands and knees. Miguel was sprawled out on the floor, and apparently hadn't made any attempts to move, until now. Tulio crawled his way over to his partner. "Miguel, are you alright?"

"Tu..." Miguel grabbed at one of Tulio's sleeves and gave a pained cough for air, "Tulio, we've got to get out of here."

"Yeah," Tulio nodded, helping Miguel sit up right. "Yeah, I know. We can't wait for Cuba to make a break for it." Tulio closed his eyes and sighed, trying to think.

"God, that stings like Hell Fire," Miguel complained as Tulio helped him upright.

"Hang in there, Partner, I'll find a way to get us out of here. We can't go through that... Not again."


End file.
